


In These Frozen and Silent Nights

by agirlnamedtruth



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: 12th Century, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Cold Weather, Dream Sex, Explicit Language, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Incest, Loneliness, Possibly Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 11:56:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5496188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/pseuds/agirlnamedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shortly after leaving them, Kol works out it's Rebekah he misses most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In These Frozen and Silent Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Set shortly before the 1114 flashbacks. For the prompt "[Hiraeth](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hiraeth)". Title from 2000 Miles by The Pretenders.

Kol stared up at the ceiling, pouting, trying to put together what was missing. He wasn’t hungry, he was sharing the floor with at least half the village and if he fancied it, he could always fuck his way through the other half. But there was something still eating away at him, an itch he couldn’t scratch, an ache he couldn’t shake. He pushed himself up on his elbows, looking at all the blood. Fuck, he missed them. Missed being told off and reprimanded and treated like a child... no, fine, he didn’t miss _them_. He missed _her_.

He sighed, trying to forget how she’d chosen to stay behind but that only made him think about how she’d asked him to stay. He rolled over, trying to avoid the blood beside him on the floor. She would have loved it here. Maybe not this tavern or this town but the mountains, the snow, the bright winter sun. She’d complain about the cold and the wet every step of the way but deep down, she’d jump at every chance to snuggle closer, to the fire, to him, to anything warm. She’d never grown out of their little bonfires. Honestly, neither had he. He had half a mind to burn this place down just to show her he was still thinking about her but of course, she wouldn’t see it.

He picked at a crack in the stone floor, he might have made it himself but he hadn’t really noticed. He couldn’t go back to them. They’d gone to Italy and he’d assured them he would go anywhere else. Even if he did go back, he wouldn’t be able to tell her why. He could never tell her why.

He dragged the nearest body towards him, resting his head on still warm skin, pretending it was her as he slept for the first time since they’d all parted ways. He dreamed of snow and of cold wind. He dreamed they were all still at home, still human.

He felt her cold hands first, running over his skin in an attempt to warm them up. He laughed and somehow, though he was pretending to push her away, he pulled her closer. Smiling, he told her he missed her, kissed her, told her he loved her even though he didn’t dare hope for her to say it back. But dreams were dreams and he could hear whatever he wanted to hear. He could whisper things never spoken aloud. He could have the only thing he truly wanted. _Her._

**Author's Note:**

> As of 01/01/18, I'm opting to disable comments. [More information here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13077201).


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